


Daredevil: Vanessa's Return

by dmarsh14



Category: Marvel WG AU, Marvel Weight Gain Universe
Genre: Force-Feeding, Near Bursting, Other, Tube-Feeding, Weight Gain, belly stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7191401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmarsh14/pseuds/dmarsh14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After some time in hiding, Vanessa Marianna returns to Hell's Kitchen, big, bad, and ready to help out Kingpin, and take revenge on those who sent him to prison. This is in the Marvel Weight Gain Universe, so you should guess how she'll do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daredevil: Vanessa's Return

     Vanessa Marianna sat on the veranda of the country villa where Wilson had hidden her away. She was safe enough, she supposed. And certainly, Wilson had his hands full back home. She loved him dearly, but she knew she couldn’t afford to distract him or offer his enemies an easy target, so she hadn’t argued when he told her to go, even if he couldn’t make it to the helicopter to be with her. She hadn’t been paying attention during the chaotic escape from New York, nor during the following flight, so she wasn’t even really sure where she was. That was fine, she admitted to herself, that way she couldn’t give any unconscious clue to her location; she didn’t even know it herself.  
     The serving staff was attentive, and without being obsequious. All she had to do was gesture, and they would appear, bringing her any foodstuffs she could want. And, bored and lonely, food was just about her only diversion. It seemed she ate her way through nearly all her waking hours, sitting at table for massive feasts at mealtimes, and even absently grazing nonstop while she pursued her other pastime, research into who had pulled the strings that entangled her lover. One hand would be typing, navigating the web, while the other would be reaching for conveniently placed snacks, absent-mindedly stuffing her face as she looked intently for connections.  
     Finally, several weeks later, she thought she had discovered the people that had sent Wilson to prison. Altering the pattern of her days, she now spent the time she’d used for research in building her skills, both mental and physical, not only to be a proper match for Wilson when they were reunited, but also to take her own vengeance on those who’d brought him down.  
     Now that she was physically working out, Vanessa actually needed the fuel from her still-sumptuous meals. She ate more than ever, and her body kept growing larger and fatter as her solitude lengthened. She smiled happily each time she looked over her enlarging body in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Her stomach hung over her waistband, forming a dome of soft flab. Glancing sideways at the mirror, she saw it stuck out a little past her breasts, themselves rounded and larger than they used to be. Now focusing on her new figure, she stood and faced sideways to the mirror, looking herself up and down. Her butt stuck out, stretching even her newest pair of pants (she’d have to get the servants to buy her new ones--again), and her arms and legs bulged, jiggling when she moved. She hadn’t bothered to weigh herself recently. Looking herself over, though, she estimated that she was had to be about 300 pounds. Experimentally, Vanessa flexed her arms, then tensed her abdominals. She knew that the musculature was there, and she could feel the strength of it too, but not a hint of the muscles or the strength she knew she had was visible in the image. She believed she was nearly ready to return and take her vengeance, and then to help Wilson out.

     Several months after sending Vanessa to safety, and his capture, Wilson Fisk relaxed in his “prison.” He smiled tightly; not so much a prison now, since he now totally controlled every part of the Ryker’s Island prison. It was nearly a private villa, much like the one he’d sent Vanessa to. The smile faded and he sighed. He missed her terribly, but he couldn’t risk her life again. Working through agents both inside the prison and outside, Fisk was nearly as well set-up as he had been before that damned Daredevil had blocked him, but he still feared that she would be in danger again; he wasn’t that powerful yet, not able to keep her safe enough.  
     His musings were interrupted by a minion approaching. “Sir?” he said quietly.  
     Fisk turned to face him. “You have news I need to hear?”  
     Now visibly trembling, the man stammered an affirmative, then handed over a package, still wrapped securely, but clearly a computer tablet. “It’s from Ms. Marianna, sir.”  
     “Why is Vanessa sending me electronics?” Fisk asked quietly.  
     “I don’t know, sir. This arrived by special courier, addressed to you and sealed as you see it.”  
     “Hmm,” he mused, staring at the package. He glanced up at the delivery man, just for a second. “Leave.” Not paying any more attention to his scurrying flight, Fisk opened the package and looked over the sealed envelope inside.  
     It certainly looked like her writing on the front, spelling out “To be opened only by Wilson Fisk”. Hefting it, he considered carefully. He did still have enemies around, and if they could find out his feelings for Vanessa (not difficult), but couldn’t get to her (he’d made that quite difficult),it was just possible they’d use that to try to get to him. But it felt just like a tablet, both dimensions and weight.  
     Quite curious, he opened it. The tablet was shut down, and he pushed the power button. Soon enough, the unlock screen came on. Considering carefully, he smiled again and entered their second date, when she’d stayed overnight and they had really begun their relationship. It opened instantly. Only three icons were on the home screen; a video player app, and two videos. He touched the video file labelled “1”.  
     No picture, just an audio file. He heard Vanessa’s voice for the first time in many long months. “Hello Wilson. I miss you. I’ve included a video for you to watch after this. I don’t want to stay away any more. I’ve done some research of my own, and I know more about your plans and your methods than I did even when I left. I know many of your enemies, and I’ve thought long and hard about this. I want to help you, more directly. I can keep my gallery, of course. I don’t want to lose the art. But I can be of real help to you now. And I can protect myself too. Between the two of us, no one will be able to hurt us again. Watch the video and you’ll see what I mean. I await your invitation to come home. All my love, Vanessa.”  
     Hardening his heart, Fisk returned to the home screen. He couldn’t risk her safety, not again. He missed her terribly as well, but she was safe now, away from his war.  
     He touched the other icon, labelled “2”. And just gaped. In the months of her exile, Vanessa had grown huge. Her body seemed nearly spherical, with her bloated arms actually resting on her bulging sides, blown up immensely with fat. Her feet were spaced wide apart, not for balance, but simply because her thighs kept her legs spread wide. Only her massive bosom changed the lines of her spherical body, laying atop her enormous belly and jutting out proudly. She was in a skin-tight unitard. Glancing up and down her body, Fisk decided it was skin-tight on purpose, not because she’d outgrown it. It was too well-fitted, showing her immensity to beautiful advantage, not straining or tearing to contain a too-large load. It had never occurred to him before, but he really enjoyed the sight of her, inflated with fat to huge roundness. She turned completely around, showing off her last new asset, an enormous ass bulging far out behind her. In all, she presented a grand image of femininity, fertility, and well-nourished prosperity. She was even more beautiful now.  
     She’d evidently judged his response carefully, and quite well. Just as he finished gazing at her new body, she spoke. “As you see, Wilson. I’m doing wonderfully here. Although I miss you terribly and I’m a little bored. But I promised to show you why I won’t be at risk by your side. Watch.”  
     Without another word, Vanessa crossed to a weight bench laid down on it, and gripped a loaded barbell. Fisk estimated it carried at least 400 pounds of weight, but Vanessa pressed it easily; a full 10 reps. Heaving it back onto the stand, she stood and went through a full rotation of weight-lifting, each set loaded to the maximum of the weights.  
     Finishing the last set, she stood back up, panting only slightly, her skin sheened with sweat glistening in the lighting. Wilson couldn’t help smiling at her image, so incredible.  
     “Impressive, I know,” she said lightly. He knew she was teasing him, but it really was impressive. Under her elephantine rolls of flab, she had developed real muscle. She went on, “but there’s one other thing I need to show you.”  
     Even as she finished speaking, a masked figure crept into frame behind her. Even knowing it was a recording, Fisk couldn’t help but squeeze the edges of the tablet in helpless rage and fear. But even as the figure neared Vanessa and raised a baton to strike her, she spun, dodging the strike, and lashed out at her attacker. As she handily dodged, blocked, and returned attacks, Fisk quickly realized this, too, was a demonstration. She finished the masked sparring partner off with a clinch straight out of sumo wrestling followed by a shoulder throw, sending him flying to crash, quite hard, into a wall. He slumped to the floor, evidently unconscious.  
     Turning to face the camera again, Vanessa ended her plea. “Yes, I set that up,” she said, barely winded. “But I promise you, I told him to come at me as a surprise; I didn’t know exactly when he would attack. I’m always aware of my surroundings now. I won’t be dead weight to be used against you. Not any more. Please let me come home to you.” The video ended, and the tablet went back to the home screen.  
     Fisk restarted the video but paused it seconds in, allowing him to stare at her image on the screen, then sat quietly considering. He wanted her back beside him, now more than ever, he thought, eyeing her new shape and eagerly anticipating exploring it. But his lasting worry about her coming to harm because of him made him hesitate. And besides, he was in prison, he remembered. It would be difficult for him to get her in, even for a conjugal visit. Looking down again at her image, he grinned wryly. The cots they had here for those visits likely wouldn’t hold her weight, let alone both of them.  
     But, she would be nearby. And once he was back out, she’d be waiting here. And, he thought further, her judgment of his responses and timing was extremely well done. He thought that she’d developed her mental capabilities alongside her physical. And if he brought her back, to work on the outside, they could talk (and video-chat) regularly. Still considering, he started the playback, watching carefully her technique and her skills as she handily dispatched her sparring partner.  
     Finally, he decided. Calling to his minions, he began to put plans to bring her back and set her up as his agent outside the prison walls.

     Less than two weeks later, Vanessa was in a well-appointed but anonymous penthouse back in Manhattan, not too far from her Hell’s Kitchen art gallery. She had full online communications, and a public meeting room with full security, and her private suite locked down with even better security. And of course, a well-stocked kitchen, full of all her new favorites to feed herself on. Wilson had even brought the master chef from her villa back with her to prepare all the food she could wish for, and a few of the servants as well. They were already cleared, and safe to work for her.  
     Wilson gave her some time to get herself set up, and re-acclimated to New York. This gave her some time to start her own plans as well. But first, she celebrated her return with a grand feast. She and Wilson had set up secure video communication, and she used it now, so they could at least pretend to have dinner together. They coordinated the menu, and at the designated time, sat down together, each with matching entrees.  
     For a while, they talked while they ate, but soon enough, Vanessa’s new body demanded food. Expecting this from her time at the villa, she just waved to the chef, and a steady stream of dishes began.  
     She stopped talking, devoting herself to stuffing her mouth with as much food as she could. Wilson stopped too, just watching her incredible stuffing session. Vanessa didn’t devote much attention to anything besides the river of food flowing into her, but she thought that Wilson was enjoying the spectacle almost as much as she enjoyed stuffing the food down her own throat.  
     As she went on, moving from finger-food appetizers, through whole entrees, to sweet confections for dessert, Wilson began crooning encouragement to her, helping her speed up even more. Alternating her hands, she grabbed one handful after another and shoved, full force, the entire thing into her already-packed mouth. She had to work at chewing the massive mouthfuls, but she did, and fast, mashing the food and swallowing it down to prepare for the next. As she sped up even further, she just opened her throat and let the incoming mouthful just push the previous one down on its own, making her throat simply a wide pipeline for the food into her stuffed stomach, inflating it as more and more food packed in.  
     Taking a precious moment to look at Wilson (while still cramming her mouth full and fuller), she smiled around the steady deluge of food passing her lips. He was stunned, gaping at her as she stuffed the food down her own throat, not in bites, but by pounds in each mouthful. He licked his lips absently. Seeing how much he enjoyed watching her devour the monumental amounts of food, Vanessa worked to speed up her feeding even more, morsels flashing from the constantly refilled plates, to her pudgy hands, into her mouth and down her throat, a steady river blowing up her already expansive and tightly packed belly.  
     Finally, more than an hour later, the food stopped and Vanessa fell back into her chair, rubbing her sweat-sheened belly, the skin visible through the many wide, new tears in her expensive dress. She moaned just loud enough for Wilson to hear it, and she smiled as he licked his lips again, unblinkingly following her hands as they rubbed over her body.  
     After he’d recovered and passionately complimented both her appearance and her ability to eat, they laid their plans. She could be on call for him to do anything he needed a trusted agent for, and aside from those jobs, she was free to pursue her own agenda. He trusted her implicitly, and only needed her to check in with him if she thought an action of hers would interfere or jeopardize his plans.

     So, she was ready to start on her vengeance. Some further checking reassured her that those blasted small-time lawyers Nelson and Murdock had actually managed to bring down Wilson, along with the masked vigilante now called Daredevil. She agreed with Wilson’s suspicion that Daredevil was actually Murdock, but whatever he called himself, however he worked, he was going to suffer.  
     Murdock had actually managed to beat Wilson in a direct face-off, so she thought that going after him directly would be a little rash. She’d been thinking long and hard, and settled on a roundabout scheme to punish him, and his law partner. And given the new standards of beauty working their way through society, she thought it deliciously ironic on top of that. She made some calls, not for Wilson, but on her own behalf, setting up a separate network of her own.

     Within a month, her new minions had acquired the needed materials for her plan. Under heavy security and as complete secrecy as she could manage, Vanessa herself went to a private warehouse, still owned by a shell organization controlled by Wilson. The FBI hadn’t discovered it yet, and she expected to have plenty of time to finish her vengeance before they did. If they ever did.  
     As she entered the cavernous main chamber of the warehouse, she could clearly see her targets. Bound and facing away from her were Karen Page, the cohort and secretary of Murdock’s law firm, up to her neck in all their work to being her Wilson down, and Marci Stahl, the lawyer who switched sides, destroying his legal case. She grinned tightly as she approached the two women, struggling vainly against the bonds holding them in the chairs. Blindfolds kept them from seeing the huge piles of foodstuffs and machinery waiting for them. According to all her research, neither Nelson nor Murdock were quite on board with the new desireable body shapes; seeing their secretary and girlfriend (even ex-) blown up with bellies burst, lying dead on the ground would be a good start, and might just throw their game off enough for her to move against them directly. And it appealed to her on its own, using the stuffing she’d happily done herself on an unwilling victim.  
     Hmm, maybe she could use them after, once they were fattened up enough. They might bring hefty profits with the right men. She knew that fat was getting quite popular, and many many men were only too happy to pay for women (even unwilling) for feeding and fattening, and of course, sex. That was something to think about. But no, they had to pay, and be used to make Murdock and Nelson pay. Maybe some other women... But first, to her current business.  
     “Hello, ladies!” she called with venomous cheer. “I suppose you’re wondering why I had my people bring you here.”  
     On hearing her voice, both women jumped, well, as much as they could while bound to their chairs. Stahl quickly recognized her voice from her work with Wilson, but Page didn’t place her immediately. As she crossed to stand in front of them, both women’s eyes went wide, and they gasped against the gags they both wore. Neither one expected her new build and appearance. She smiled, still spiteful. “Yes, I know. With nothing else to do, hidden away for safety, I just ate. Quite a lot, too.” She ran her hands down her bulging sides, and went on, “but I hear this is the new sexy. I’m sure my Wilson won’t mind.”  
     With her name-dropping, even Page finally realized who she was. Vanessa smiled again, viciously. “Oh, don’t worry,” she cooed. “It’s all turned out fine. Just look at me,” she continued, spreading her arms wide, flab drooping from her arms, inviting their stares to run over her enormous expansive form. “I’m better than ever. Certainly better-fed, don’t you think?”  
     Moving around her set-up, putting the finishing touches on the machinery she needed, Vanessa continued, “I’m not out to hurt you, ladies. Oh, no. I want to share the bounty!”  
     Stahl’s face contorted into a question. Vanessa noticed, and laughed lightly. “Given the hard feelings when I had to flee, I don’t think I can let you loose just yet.” She paused, showily thinking, then went back to setting up the equipment. “Don’t worry though; even tied up, these devices will let you eat as much as you could ever want. And even more than that!”  
     Bending, she retrieved wide tubes with locking fittings on the ends, running along the floor towards the large machines in the dim edges of the lighted area. She came close to her captives’ heads, and reached one hand to each one, bringing the tubes up to their gags. A quiet * _click_ * marked the tubes fastening onto the gags, and a low _whirr_ , along with the women’s jaws lowering, told Vanessa that the gags were opening, as designed, to form wide “O”s of their mouths, ready for the feeding she had in mind.  
     Now clearly realizing what was coming, the two women started to struggle against their bonds, as futile as that was. With a showy flourish, Vanessa pulled out a remote control, aimed it at the machinery, and pressed a button. Instantly, a hum started and the two captives could feel vibrations running along the length of the tubes.  
     Vanessa had decided to keep the rate slow, at first anyway. She thought that the inexorability would punish the women as much as their eventual fate would punish the men, Murdock and Nelson. After a minute or two, the paste Vanessa had had prepared reached her captives’ lips, began to flow down their throats, and started to fill their bellies.  
     Seeing that her set-up was working perfectly, Vanessa went to a comfortable easy chair placed near the machinery. Settling into the soft, upholstered seat, Vanessa happily watched the flow of paste into the women, blowing them up slowly, but visibly, as she grabbed her own feeding from the piles she’d had placed on the trays around her chair. Watching her victims inflate with food was making her hungry; she’d suspected it would, and had the feast prepared for her, so she could stuff herself right along with them. She was counting on the fact that the other two wouldn’t have her capacity, and would burst and die long before she herself was sated.  
     She settled in, packing food into her mouth steadily, one hand after the other, keeping her own mouth filled to capacity, chewing and swallowing mouthful after mouthful, filling her belly up. As she did, she watched the two women struggling against their bonds while the pumps sent a steady flow of paste into them. Page actually tried to hold her throat closed, whether to force the back-pressure to pop her tube loose, or just a mindless effort to stop gaining Vanessa wasn’t sure. But whatever the reason, she’d had the gags and tubing designed carefully. The strap around Page’s cheeks would let them expand, but not enough to burst, and the latch holding the tube onto her gag would hold against any pressure the paste in her mouth could exert. Sure enough, soon the steady pumping forced enough food into her mouth that Page’s throat muscles gave out and her neck bulged visibly as the build up in her mouth suddenly shot down her throat.  
     Interestingly, Stahl didn’t try anything with the gag. She focused her efforts on getting herself loose from the bindings holding her to the chair, and immobilizing her hands. Vanessa smiled around her continual feeding; there was no way Stahl could get herself free. The bonds were even stronger than the gag/tube assembly.  
     Minutes passed, and the two women’s bellies began to visibly bulge, growing tight and packed with the paste. Slowly, but quite visible, both women inflated with the steady influx of paste into their bellies. More and more pushed through the tubes, into their mouths (their cheeks starting to bulge from the back-up due to their relatively narrow throats), and down into their already-full bellies, blowing them up larger and larger each moment. Little by little, the two bellies grew, already twice their former size and still growing bigger and wider as more and more paste flowed relentlessly into them. The two women moaned in pain and terror as they kept swelling, growing huge and tight as the paste filled, and overfilled them.  
     Minutes became an hour. Vanessa, still stuffing herself steadily, began to wonder why they hadn’t popped already. Slowing (but not stopping) her own feeding, she carefully examined the two women up and down. She noticed that while their bellies were certainly massively domed and by now huger than the entire rest of their bodies, their whole bodies were swelling, slower than the bellies to be sure, but still noticeable. Vanessa actually stopped her cramming. She thought hard, scrunching her brow in thought. Suddenly, it hit her. She’d used normal commercially available food, made specifically for belly stuffing, to make her paste! With the new standards of sexy, that stuff had most of the drugs those Defenders had discovered added to them. Her victims’ digestion was enhanced, processing the paste and fattening the women instead of just overstuffing their bellies.  
     She sighed. Well, she shouldn’t have expected to get it perfect on the first try. She turned to the pumps, and reprogrammed them to speed up, stopping when their tanks were empty. She’d just finish this phase, then add her own untreated food. That would return their digestion to normal, and she be able to pop them with food later.  
     As the pumps sped up, and the women’s bellies began to inflate like balloons even as they digested and inflated the rest of themselves, Vanessa made a few calls to her minions, setting in motion the preparations for her new phase 2. Then she grinned tightly. Now she could compete with their inflating bodies, really strive to beat them to total and complete fullness.  
     Hours later, the pumps finally sputtered to a stop, their tanks totally drained. Vanessa looked over the two women, nude as their clothes exploded into rags draped over their massive bodies. Both women were only half-conscious, exhausted and immobilized by the several hours of inflation. Page’s eyes were glazed, barely open, and Stahl’s head was slumped forwards, resting on her new massive bosom. Both women panted heavily, starting to recover a bit from the impossible stuffing session.  
     Their upper arms had ballooned to a size easily as wide as some women’s waists, with folds hanging down covering their elbows, making it impossible to bend them, even a little. Even their forearms had blossomed as well, to two or three times their starting size, with their own folds encompassing their wrists. Their hands were now so inflated with fat they were nearly spherical, and with bloated sausages for fingers. She could see them trying to close their hands to fists, actually smiling a little when they couldn’t begin to bend the puffed-out fingers enough.  
     She lowered her gaze to look over the rest of them. Their breasts had expanded out far enough that even with the soft fatty tissue pulled down by gravity, they managed to billow out easily a meter or more from their torsos, and spread out sideways around half the span of their bloated arms. She reached forward to try to gauge the huge span of the massive fleshy pillows; between their expansion and her own arms’ tremendous size, she could barely reach halfway along them. She took the opportunity to rub gently along the sensitive new skin, shuddering with pleasure at both the feeling of triumph and the soft tenderness of the fatty folds of flesh under her hands.  
     She rose, struggling even her exceptional muscles against her massive new domed belly, too full to jiggle as she heaved herself to her feet. Cradling its massive enormity in her soft arms, she waddled around the massive women (a long distance, considering how vastly expanded they were) and ogled their imposing asses. Each stretched out behind its owner half a meter or more, and lifted her up high as she sat on her chair. Their legs were completely hidden from her view, but she could tell from experience and what she little she could see, that they were held almost to splits by their own massive size; the insides of their thighs squeezing tight together and forcing the legs wide apart. She could imagine the apron of flab hanging from their thighs over their knees. She went right up to Page, and heaved her massive belly-apron up, to find her captive’s ankles and moving her feet around, and seeing them rubbing wonderfully against the similar aprons hanging from her fattened calves over her enveloped feet. She imagined them as spherical as the woman’s hands and looked over the woman’s toes, all that could be seen peeking out from the flabby folds of her ankles, bloated as much as her fingers.  
     Saving the best for last, she finally stepped back and let herself consider their truly gargantuan bellies. They reaching out easily 2 full meters from their fronts, and spreading out more than a meter to either side. Each formed a heavy apron, completely covering their legs, with just the tips of her bloated feet sticking out from underneath. Quite pleased with her success so far, she smiled benevolently at her captives.  
     Gesturing to her minions, arrived just in time with the replacement paste, Vanessa turned back to the captives. “Well, you’ve done extraordinary,” she said. The women jerked awake as they heard her voice. “You even managed to keep up with me,” she went on, chuckling and rubbing her hands over the small part of her gargantuan belly she could actually reach. “Even outpaced me. Well, I suppose I have myself to blame for that. Now, I did make a tiny miscalculation when I set this up, so now I have to use my own mixture for part 2 of your feast!”  
     Leaning forward as far as she could, Vanessa pressed into Stahl’s new massive belly. Underneath the meters of soft fat, she could just barely feel her still-packed-full stomach, rock hard and tight with its load still sitting heavily inside the woman. She grinned again; this time, with her own food, and not treated with the digestion enhancers, they’d be popped like food-filled parade balloons in no time.  
     After having them stuffed helplessly for several hours already, Vanessa thought it wasn’t worth it any more to go slowly. Her captives had certainly already figured what she had in mind and were totally helpless to prevent it. Smiling like a hunting cat, she simply started the pumps as soon as the new paste was loaded into the tanks. In seconds, the paste reached them and poured down into their already-tightly-full stomachs. Over the humming of the pumps, Vanessa could just hear their pained and terrified moans, and the quiet creaking as their skin tried impossibly to expand further to fit in the new loads.  
     Vanessa could hear the creaking growing louder and faster as they neared the end. It was music to her ears. Leaning forward avidly, she waited eagerly for their inevitable end. Suddenly, she heard another sound; breaking glass, followed immediately by not one, but two metallic crashes.  
     Spinning, she saw first that one pump was knocked off its base, broken and disconnected from the tubing. Looking at the other, she saw it crushed as if by a massive weight landing on it from on high. Between the two demolished machines was a woman. Olive complexion, long black hair reaching down her back, clad in skin-tight black with a triangle of red at her front. And hugely, massively fat. Vanessa thought she must be nearly as big as Vanessa herself. Her belly extended far out in front of her, in two gargantuan rolls, separated by a white mawashi tied right over her black skinsuit, with yet another roll under her breasts and a massive roll of lower fat covered by the skin-tight bottom, her thighs thicker than other women's entire bodies, so much fat packed onto her ass that it sagged down onto her thighs. Her body was packed with so many rolls of fat that they were almost impossible to count as she moved and flexed, readying herself. Eying the mawashi, Vanessa knew that this woman was trained in sumo, like herself. She flexed her own body, arms and legs tensing, readying herself for a fight.  
     As the other woman dropped into the starting stance of a sumo bout, Vanessa herself did the same. Both women dropped their fists to the floor in near-unison (as required by the ancient rules of sumo), then sprang towards each other in the traditional charge.  
     They met full-on, flesh slapping loudly through their thin clothing. Immediately both women grabbed each other, one hand over the other’s shoulder, the other down near her waist. The other woman kept low to avoid Vanessa’s bull-rush to push her right down underneath her massive weight.  
     In their clinch, both women grunted and panted with effort a second or two, then simultaneously shifted their stances to try for a hold. Vanessa went for the woman’s leg in an over-thigh scooping body drop while the other woman went for a head-lock throw.  
     After struggling a few more seconds, Vanessa broke the clinch and went for a knee-trip to bring the woman down quickly. She twisted away and came rushing back in, grabbing for Vanessa’s leg in an ankle pick. Vanessa let go her hold and backed off.  
     Instantly, before the other woman could settle herself, Vanessa rushed in for another scooping body drop. She got her grip and started to feel the woman falling backwards, then suddenly the woman jumped, lunging forwards without trying out of Vanessa’s hold.  
     As she went forwards, the woman grabbed onto Vanessa’s shoulders, pulling her face into the woman’s folds of fat. Their momentum shifted, and Vanessa fell backwards, slamming her back on the floor with the woman’s heavy weight pushing down on her. The woman didn’t let go; instead she pulled tighter in, totally cutting off Vanessa’s air with her own folds of massive fat.  
     Her breath getting short smothered in the woman’s flab, Vanessa started struggling desperately, letting go her hold totally and just trying to punch, gouge, squeeze; anything to get this woman off her to catch her breath.  
     Unable to escape the woman’s belly folds, Vanessa felt her lungs burning with desperation for air. Her struggles got slower, weaker, and finally ceased as she lost consciousness.

     The woman felt her opponent’s struggling ebb and go still; she held on just long enough to ensure that she was really out cold. Then she sighed, and pulled her belly flab away from her enemy’s face; Murdock would probably not like it if she killed her. She let the woman go, to flop backwards hard onto the concrete floor, her head bouncing with a sharp * _crack_ *; she didn’t have to treat her gently, after all.  
     Pushing her heavy body back to her feet, the woman turned to the two captives. Crossing to stand in front of Karen, she studied quickly and released the tube from the gag, then pulled the gag off. She repeated the process with Marci, and then snapped the bonds holding the women down.  
     “You’re lucky I was nearby,” she said to them. “Can you walk?”  
     First Marci, then Karen, struggled to get to their feet. A few slow, waddling steps, and both women nodded. “I think so,” Marci added. “Good God! Was she really trying to pop us?”  
     Karen, her face hard, answered. “Obviously. That’s Wilson Fisk’s girlfriend. Clearly they have a grudge.”  
     Now the woman spoke up. “At least she does. But you’re safe now.”  
     “Safe!” screamed Marci. “Look at us! We’re beyond obese; we’re so fat, we can barely walk!”  
     As the woman opened her mouth to answer, Karen simply ignored Marci. “Who are you, anyway?” she asked the woman.  
     “Elektra. I’m an old friend of Matt’s.”  
     “Oh,” Karen said. “Well thank you for the rescue at least.” She turned to Marci, adding, “yes, we’re fat, but you know how things are changing now. And we can still walk, if slowly. Let’s get out of here. If you want to slim back down, you can, or you can build up your body to hold up the weight. Lots of people like this now, you know that.”  
     Still grumbling, likely to blow off the adrenaline from her near-death, Marci joined Karen in locating some kind of fabric to try and cover their naked immensity, at least until they could get to safety, and acquire some new clothes.


End file.
